


planting seeds, leaving legacies

by flavus



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Friendship, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, Plants, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 11:51:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11230365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flavus/pseuds/flavus
Summary: the one where they bloom together.or aaron is reincarnated and gets to watch alexander go through the motions until he finally figures out how to live.





	planting seeds, leaving legacies

If he could see, or talk, he would’ve been mutinous. Maybe. 

As it was, Aaron Burr was living proof that plants could hear, as he was subject to the-man-who-used-to-be-Alexander-Hamilton’s horrendous singing. Every. Single. Day. 

-

In retrospect, it made perfect sense that Aaron got to be reincarnated as a plant. As an orchid, specifically: nice to look at, easy to keep alive, perfectly inoffensive. 

But he couldn’t help but wonder about the other possibilities - he could’ve been his last name, an actual Burr, poking people in the sides and all that jazz. Maybe that was something better suited to Alexander, he realized.

Or a bird, but if anyone found out he would’ve been subjected to copious “Burr”-d puns. At least he’d actually have _mobility_ and the ability to peck off their ears and, if he was feeling particularly petty, shit on them. Literally.  

Maybe he could’ve been a bear - it wasn’t too far from his last name phonetically, anyway, but he’d be out of commission for the winter, which was his favorite season, so that would probably have been terrible, in its own way.

Although he had to admit, out of all the organisms he could’ve ended up being and the places he could’ve been, it was a terrible twist of fate that landed him in George Washington - or rather, Augustine “Auggie” George and his wife, Martha’s, apartment. And it just so happened that past-Alexander, or James Xander, was their foster child. 

Not all of them were reincarnated as humans. Of course, Alexander had to be, because how else was he going to argue and annoy the living daylights out of the rest of the world? 

As Aaron mused, he reckoned that maybe Alex would’ve been better as a tomcat, though. After all, he was always on the prowl for the next big thing (or next big conquest, if you caught Aaron’s drift). And George and Martha were pure souls - if not a bit uptight - who he couldn’t really see as animals.

The Schuyler sisters, though, were reincarnated as a mixture of mammals, as were the rest of the revolutionary quartet and Jefferson and Madison, though what he’d learned he’d learned from hushed conversations Xander and Auggie had over dinner, while Martha was still at work. He wasn’t particularly interested in any of them, though he vaguely recalled them saying Angelica was some sort of wild cat, Jefferson a snake, and Madison a human. 

He did remember one person, on the other hand. His Theodosia was a cat, and even though he couldn’t see her, he  _ knew _ . When he was at the plant shop, there’d been gentle touches to his leaves, to his petals, and he could feel her in every stroke. It had been the worst kind of torture, to want to speak to her and tell her everything he couldn’t, centuries ago, while he was forced silent by plant biology. 

But of course, she was taken away from him too early. Which led him here, to this godforsaken apartment where Xander couldn’t help himself from singing, all the fucking time.

Apparently the universe wasn’t kind enough to make him deaf, too. 

He had no idea whether Xander was singing to piss him off or to make him grow, but either way, it was only the former that was being accomplished. It had started when Auggie brought him home to Xander and Martha, supposedly a few days after they brought Xander home from the orphanage. 

(Aaron thought it was terrible, that the universe was cruel to the point that they made Alexander, Xander, whoever he was, go without parents again. At least this time, he had people to look after him, and much earlier than last time. But maybe he’d gone soft this time around, because here he was, concerned over Alex, of all things. Maybe.)

“You need something to care for, Xander,” Auggie had said.  

Aaron could only imagine the boundless kindness in the man’s eyes, and regretted that he'd never been shown it much during his lifetime.

“If you say so,” Xander - Alex - had responded, voice clouded with doubt and duty.

A few days later, Xander started talking to him. 

(Aaron still didn't know what to call them. President, or George, or Alex, or Hamilton, or Xander, Martha or Mrs. George - he still got confused. At least he could blame it on being a plant.)

“Hey,” he began tentatively. “Um. It's weird, talking to a plant, but,” as he went on, his voice began to gain strength, “I've been reading up on plant care, ‘cause, well, books have been my biggest friend for as long as I can remember, and the pup I used to have at the orphanage - Laurens - but yeah.” A sound like he was ruffling his hair. 

“I remember someone writing that it helps, for plants, if you, uh, talk to them. And sing. And I guess it wouldn't hurt to try. I mean, you can't judge me or anything. You can't talk back.” 

(Had I ever, really, in all our time together, before? Aaron wondered. Except for the duel. Him being speechless was probably penitence for that.)

“And I just,” Xander continued, “I don’t know. I feel like - I’m scared this isn’t gonna work out, you know? I mean, you don’t know, obviously. You’re a plant. How can you know?” His voice dropped to a whisper, so faint that Aaron could barely (Burr-ly, he thought, and hated himself for it) pick up on it. 

“Nothing has worked out for me, so far. I’ve been in - nine? I think, foster homes. And each of them came up with their own reason not to - not to keep me. They’d always gloss over it, like ‘Oh, we’re moving to Canada and it’s really hard to get him a passport’ or ‘We’re thinking of having another biological child and we don’t have the funds to keep him here, even though we’ve  _ loved _ having him here!’. And they’d talk to me like I couldn’t understand, like their sweet tone of voice could mask their dislike that I was there.”

(Aaron didn’t care. Nope. He didn’t feel one lick of sorry for Xander.

But then again, in addition to being a terrible shot, he was also terrible at interpersonal relations, and specifically lying. He wondered how he’d ever become a decent lawyer.)

Xander seemed distraught, because Aaron could hear his footsteps quicken. He could picture the old Alexander in his mind, waving his hands frantically and pacing whenever inspiration - or any emotion, really - struck him. 

“I just - I want this to work. I really like them, because they’re the first family that’s really treated me like an actual human being. But I hate it because I feel like I need to shut up for them to look at me like that.”

(Oh.  _ Oh _ , and there was that, Xander talking less and smiling more, and Burr couldn’t pretend he didn’t hurt at hearing that.)

The vulnerability in his voice was - something else. “I’m terrified, that if I talk to them, they’ll find out the real reason that everyone else didn’t want me. Because I’m loud and opinionated and honestly, far too snarky for my own good and I just don’t know how to stop talking. So I guess it’s good that you’re here, because I’ll be able to talk to you.”

Dear God. Aaron couldn’t even move. It was just two centuries ago, and he was still powerless to stop this force of nature. 

 “You know, I’ve been practicing my singing. I wanted to try out for the school musical because I figured if I didn’t get accepted by debate club, at least I’d be able to have friends.” 

Xander then launched into a horribly off-key rendition of “Waving Through a Window,” and Aaron made possibly the worst mistake of his life: he launched pollen, all over Xander, to get him to stop, figuring the kid had to be allergic.

Nope. No, he was definitely not allergic, and he was definitely still singing. 

Aaron would’ve facepalmed, if he could. As it was, Xander looked delighted. “You think it’s wonderful? Oh, man, that’s great! I mean, if you like it that much” - he gestured to the pollen on him - “I’ll sing to you, every day!”  

- 

Oddly enough, the singing probably helped. For some reason, Aaron felt compelled to shoot pollen on Xander as soon as the kid opened his mouth to sing. 

(He ignored the fact that, yes, pollen was one of those plant reproductive functions. He was definitely not attracted. At all.)

But somehow, though Xander’s singing improved only marginally, his confidence began to grow. He didn’t have to join the school musical - miracles do happen, Aaron thought - and as soon as he joined debate, he flourished, and he came home and talked to Aaron about all of his exploits. Aaron, too, started to bloom. His first bud sprang open the first day Xander went to a debate competition, and in his words, “blew the competition away.”  

(With what, he’d have asked, your annoyingly non-stop strategy of just talking until the other team gets tired of your voice? He wasn’t proud, though. For sure.) 

His second bud sprang open when Xander started to open up to Auggie and Martha, and began telling them about his days in lurid detail, from first period to sixth period. And inconceivably, wonderfully, they enjoyed his retellings of his life, and Aaron could almost _feel_ the air filled with the love each of them had for each other.  

But them talking to Xander, and relishing in his company, meant that Xander had less and less time for Aaron. It was a strange thing, getting used to that. But even if Xander wasn’t necessarily talking to him, he still sang to Aaron every day. And that had to count for something, Aaron thought.  

So maybe he didn’t mind the singing much after all. 

And he was happy, to have Xander bloom alongside him. After all, the world was ready for another Alexander Hamilton. Or maybe its first Xander George.

**Author's Note:**

> this is semi-crack, semi-serious. i dunno. i just feel like a plant burr would be somewhat appropriate. :-))
> 
> hope you enjoyed reading, though!
> 
> my tumblr, should you want to talk about hamilton (or any other musicals, etc etc), is @sillyhypotheticals. still don't know how to hyperlink it, aha, but there it is ^^


End file.
